“Who says what makes a sport worthy of the Olympics?” Who’s Your Daddy scoffed. “So what if the current holder of the marathon world record is gracing the confines of this stadium? You know what I want to know? What’s his beer mile time?”

A piece of paper was passed from the back of the room to Who’s Your Daddy. He looked at it, looked again, and swallowed hard.After a moment, he let it flutter to the ground and continued, “And that’s my exact point! Who is the fastest beer miler? Who can push his—” Someone coughed. “Or her, thanks Do Her Well, self to the limit? Who will break the boundaries of the sport when gold is on the line? And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why Beer Mile should be an Olympic event.”

“I’m gonna let you finish, Who’s Your Daddy,” Lost In Foreskin interrupted. “But Beer Mile is the greatest sport of all time.”

“That’s what I was saying,” Who’s Your Daddy muttered.

“You know what,” Lost In Foreskin declared. “You know what, the proof is in the pudding. Dick Simmons! Roll tape!”

Dick Simmons edged his way forward with a slide carousel and an extension cord. “Sorry everyone, the GoPro has been giving me issues, heh.”Dick Ass Mother Fucker helped him untangle the wires while Udder Moron flicked off the lights.

*Click*

“Oh look, there’s Sleazy Like Sunday Whoring.Also, as you can see here, we have Prison Wallet enjoying the fine sunny day at the Marina Green. Dogs are great animals.”

*Click*

“And there’s Hand Pump with the beer, and in his Scenic Hash shirt. Merchandise opportunity right there, folks!”

*Click*

“You can see that Beer Mile is a family event, here’s Backside Banger and his pop. Fun for everyone!”

*Click*

“Squeal 4 Me and his cute pooch, posing for the camera.”

*Click*

“Just Get It Over With.”

*Click*

“Just Get It Over With.”

*Click*

“Just Get It Over With.”

*Click*

“Just Get It Over With.”

*Click*

“Just Get It Over With.”

“Dick Simmons—” Who’s Your Daddy warned.

“Right. Um, maybe someone else should do this?”

“Let me at it, let me at it!” Lost In Foreskin leapt for the mike. “Okay, and here is your elite Beer Mile timekeeping crew. Um—”

“One Night Only and My Little Porno,” supplied Chicken Bone Her.

“Right, and they were the glue that held this little event together,” Lost In Foreskin continued. “You can see we have a fine field represented in San Francisco on this beautiful Monday, travelers from all around, as far as Lake Tahoe.” Sausage Factory waved from the back of the group.

“It was a strong showing, with Who’s Your Daddy and myself out of the gates almost instantaneously. Then some other guys were there too. Oh, and there’s Weiner I Am, puking. You can see the participants are willing to sacrifice their bodies as well as their dignity in this race.”

*Click*

“So there was a beer, and there was another beer, and there was a third beer, and then one more beer. Oh and some running too. And then Who’s Your Daddy beat me, but only just, and I have been suffering from a severe and debilitating injury folks, but my love of this great sport pushed me to run faster and drink further than I ever have drunk before.”

Cockamole coughed pointedly.

“So you’d have us believe,” Muff Daddy said from the table placed at the front of the room. “You’d have us believe the entire event was just a mano-a-mano competition between you and Who’s Your Daddy.” Fucker looked up and made a notation in his journal.

“Um,” Lost In Foreskin looked perplexed. “Maybe?”

“Don’t listen to this halfmind,” Rocky Mountain Oyster shoved his way to the front. “You get crazies like him in every sport. You want to know what I saw out there, in that group of brave men and women? Pure grit, plain and simple. The Perfect Woman and The Cunt Next Door bared their stomachs on that field. Did they let that stop them? No! I saw Just James complete his final lap and ask for another! I saw Do Her Well claiming her women’s title for the fifth year straight, fending off Titty Boo Boo at the end! I saw Hello Titties taking that last turn full speed, hurtling (not hurling, mind you) to a close finish just after Worst Bottom Ever, with Machu Machu Man close at his heels. Tuna on Top, despite recent injury, gave the beer mile her heart and soul.”

He paused for a breath, tapping through the slides rapidly. “And here, despite their DNFs, Cream Chugger and Just Liz tried their hardest. And any Beer Mile without Gondolerrhea and The Good Shit Lollicock representing is no beer mile at all.”

Rent Whore looked up from the table. “Is that all?”

“Damn right, it’s all,” Rocky Mountain Oyster nodded once and returned to the group.

Dildo Baggins leaned over to confer with Can’t Rush Anal, who spared a quick glance for some documents Fuck Norris was handing her. Cosmopolitits passed Dildo Baggins a note, which he nodded vigorously at before passing over to Rent Whore. Cosmo then whispered something in Minor 69er’s ear.

“Maybe you should try back in 2020,” Minor 69er declared. It was as if a gavel had been struck down. The panel, as one, rose and started to leave the room.